Lament
by MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Rangiku Matsumoto is a beautiful woman. She's had men confessing their desire of her for so long she's forgotten when it started. She knows how to handle such confessions. Only this time, she makes a lapse in judgement and looses something precious.


_Disclaimer: _I do not own Bleach or any of its affiliates. Anything that you recognise is property of its respective owners. Any relations to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

_Base/s:_ Bleach

_Title:_ Lament

_Summary:_ Rangiku Matsumoto is a beautiful woman. She's had men confessing their desire of her for so long she's forgotten when it started. She knows how to handle such lustful confessions. Only this time, she makes a lapse in judgement and looses something precious.

_Music used for inspiration:_ None.

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><p>Rangiku relished the sake as she dipped her saucer to her mouth, emptying it of the last of the liquid. Setting it down, she licked her lips and stretched out a languid hand for the jug that sat on her desk.<p>

She heard a sigh.

"Matsumoto." Her Captain warned, looking up from his paperwork briefly.

She turned and pouted.

"But Captain, it's only one drink!" she wheedled.

He gave her a flat stare.

"You've been refilling that saucer since you came in this afternoon." He chastised.

She tried to grin innocently.

"Yes, and the jug's not empty yet. That means it's technically only one drink -_of the jug-_ right?" she said hopefully.

"Matsumoto, no more sake." He ordered, fixing her with a mild glare before returning to his work.

She scowled and moved her hand away. Then, a few seconds later, she inched her fingers forward.

"_Matsumoto."_

She stopped, sighing. She was _bored._

Reaching for a sheaf of papers she glared balefully at the form of her captain, who hadn't even raised his head to utter his warning.

She began to fill out what was needed, cursing the work in her mind. She didn't notice when her movements slowed and her eyelids drooped. Her head bowed and her breathing became deep and heavy.

Toshiro looked up when he realised he could only hear the scratching of one pen on paper. Casting his eyes over the form of his lieutenant, his look softened and he sighed. Getting up and stretching slightly, catching sight of a smattering of stars from one of the windows, he made his way over to her desk.

Gently pulling the pen from her limp grasp and removing the papers from under a hand, he set them aside. Looking at her for a moment, he allowed himself to drink in her features. He knew she was beautiful, as did everybody. And he was sure he wasn't the only male to have such feelings for her. But that didn't stop him from feeling so very alone. Men lusted after her, and maybe some cared, but he was sure only he loved her as deeply as he did. He didn't love _everything_, that would be nearing obsession. He didn't like her constant drinking, how she sulked like a child when she didn't get her way, nor the way she was sometimes painfully tactless and knew it. But he loved the way she could crack a joke and make even him smile, how she could be so kind and gentle and then fierce the next second, the silent (and sometimes not so silent) understanding he saw in the expressions she didn't manage to hide.

He loved the mole on her lower lip she tried to cover up with makeup, that stubborn lock of hair that fell in front of her face when she got frustrated and how she clapped her hands together and her face lit up when she was excited.

He loved all these things about her and he wasn't above admitting it to himself.

Sighing again, he brushed some stray hair from her face and shrugging off his haori, laid it across her shoulders.

Stepping back slightly, he lowered his gaze and made to leave before, overtaken by a sudden impulse, he darted back and pressed his lips to her cheek in a lingering, heartfelt kiss.

Quickly tugging himself away, he walked from the room without a backward glance.

After a moment, Rangiku opened her eyes. Lifting her head, she turned it to get the cricks out before removing the coat over her shoulders and laying it across her desk. She sighed.

So that was that.

She knew he wasn't like all the rest, she _knew_ that. He didn't stare or flirt, he didn't try to impress or boast, hell, he didn't even try to _smile._

But still.

He wanted her and now she knew it. She sighed again. He just had to didn't he? She wanted to blame him for how she felt, the awkwardness that would surely come, so she did. At least partly.

She was selfish, she knew. She didn't want to give up her life. Her partying, her hard drinking, her reputation of being a flirt. He didn't like her drinking, he hated it when she came in after a wild night, she saw him narrow his eyes at whatever male she batted her eyelashes at.

She was who she was; the party animal, the untameable, untouchable woman who could kick ass, drink you under the table and laugh while doing it.

She didn't take a great number of men to bed, no matter what the rumour mill suggested. There were a few, but she picked carefully. She was not some whore, some desperate, promiscuous woman who caved to men's desires. But there were a special few who she gladly played with. And if he had not been her direct superior, and if things hadn't been so very complicated, he would have been one of them.

But not now. She wouldn't compromise her freedom no matter who asked it of her.

So it had to stop. And stop it she would.

* * *

><p>When she walked early the next morning, he knew that something was wrong. She was sighing more often and kept stealing melancholy, slightly frustrated glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking.<p>

Eventually, he threw his pen down with a clatter. She jumped and looked over.

Getting up with a little more forcefully than was necessary, he walked over to her and crossed his arms.

"What's the matter?" he almost demanded.

She blinked and he elaborated.

"You came in early –although you were still two hours late-, you haven't smiled once and you keep looking at me like I've done something to you. Explain, if you please." He said, tapping a finger on his forearm.

She sighed again and decided to be blunt. She was good at it after all.

"I know you love me."

For a moment, he was very still. She searched every contour of his face to see what he was thinking, but to no avail.

"I see." He bit out eventually. "How long have you known, if I may ask?"

She shifted in her seat.

"I suspected for a while, but I knew for sure yesterday."

His face showed only the briefest flickers of anger.

"So you were awake then."

She nodded guiltily.

They were silent for a few moments before she broke it.

"Why?" she had to know, at least.

"I don't know." He admitted, faint colour on his cheeks. "I guess it just happened."

"Wanted me the first second you saw me huh?" she teased, a tiny smile gracing her face.

He returned it hesitantly.

"I don't believe in that 'love at first sight' nonsense. You know that."

She grinned.

"True."

Their silence was less awkward this time, and it was Toshiro who broke it.

"Rangiku?" he ventured nervously and she lifted her head up. Before she could make sense of it, his lips were pressed against her own. She froze and managed to override the well learned impulse to throw a punch.

If she was being honest with herself, and she always tried to be, she rather liked the kiss. But that wasn't enough.

They eventually parted and he wrung his hands, red decorating his skin, studiously not looking at her.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly.

She was quiet for a beat, and he wring his hands harder.

"So am I."

He looked up sharply, holding back hurt.

She gave him a sorry stare.

"I can't."

He dropped his head.

"Oh."

She mentally cursed, she hated this part.

"I like you and everything, but it just wouldn't work." She placated and was slightly insulted when he snorted.

"Don't use the lines on me Rangiku." He requested bitterly.

She blinked before blowing out a slow breath. She should have known better than to treat him like any other and expect rehearsed lines to work.

"Alright then." She started, "You don't want all of me. You would try to change me. I don't want to be changed. I'm perfectly happy just the way I am. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but that's the way it is."

He flinched when she was ranting and she felt bad inside.

"I _like_ to drink, I _enjoy_ my parties and I have _fun_ flirting. You hate all of that. I don't want to hurt you-"

He cut her off.

"Again with the lines Rangiku."

She sighed. True enough.

"It's true though."

He shook his head, sending messy white hair brushing along his cheekbone.

"No it's not."

"Yes," she repeated sadly, "it is."

She stood up and he took a step back, caught off guard by her abruptness.

"Rangiku-" he began, she held up a sharp hand and he fell quiet.

"Please don't call me that anymore." She requested, making sure she looked him in the eyes. She almost regretted it when she saw the hurt flash through them.

"But- why?"

"I think," she explained brusquely, "It would be best if we distanced ourselves from each other."

His eyes widened.

"What- no!" he protested.

She mustered a hard look. This was the most painful one she'd had to go through.

"It would only hurt both of us if we didn't. I won't let you, or anybody else, change me." Her lips formed a line. "Sir."

He stood, stunned as she walked briskly towards the door. As she neared it, he spoke out to her.

"Wait." He asked softly. Against her better judgement, she did so, half turning. "If that's what you want, then fine. I'll do it if it makes you happy. But you're being stupid."

Her temper flared.

"Why, because I didn't make the smart choice of choosing you? I've heard lines like that a thousand times already." She scoffed.

His brow creased in annoyance.

"No. Because you're too damn stubborn. I wouldn't have tried to change you. I love you and if I changed you, you wouldn't be you anymore. And you refuse to see that because you're blind." He said, getting angrier by the word.

She looked fiercely at him.

"And now you're angry because I rejected you. How predictable."

"Don't you_ dare._" He snapped. "I'm not angry because you rejected me, I'm not petty enough for that. I'm angry because you think I'm just like them, the thugs who hit on you in bars. I thought proved myself when I carried you back, half naked from one of your wild nights, or when you stumbled into by bedroom totally drunk, or hell! Any time we were alone! You know I can easily overpower you."

She was shaking when he finished speaking. She stayed stubbornly silent.

He deflated and sighed, looking at her.

"No, I can't begrudge you if you don't love me. I understand that."

She didn't move for a moment before she turned towards the door again.

"I'm sorry sir, I would prefer to keep our personal lives just that, if you please."

She made to move again when she heard a broken sound from behind her. She couldn't identify if it had been a sob, but when he strode past her and opened the door, she didn't see any wetness on his cheeks. She felt almost vexed by it.

He half turned and she could stop the twang of shock when she saw his dead expression, so like when Momo had forsaken him.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Matsumoto. Good day." He said, clipped and professional and stoic. Like he had been when she'd first seen him walk into the office when his brand new haori. She hadn't liked him much then.

He walked through the door and disappeared in a Flash Step.

Now having any reason to escape the room, she stayed where she was.

It was all for the best, the reminded herself. Even knowing that, it hurt. Not because she knew he was right, deep down she knew it too, but that he had her figured out so well and she'd gravely misjudged his character.

She felt slightly sick.

She couldn't reassure herself that her decision was the right one when he called her _that_.

'_Lieutenant Matsumoto'._

He hadn't called her that in almost three hundred years.

And now she'd thrown it all away.

No, she reminded herself, this was better in the long run. She would not be suffocated. She couldn't convince herself now, not after this. She knew this time she was wrong.

And no amount of pretty smiles would make it right.

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><p><em>Yes, It's WAY depressing. And I love HitsuMatsu. I think i'm channeling my annoyance over the fact that people seem to dislike my recent Yu Gi Oh fanfic. Well, i've only got two reviews for a 6000ish word story! That's like, never happened! So it must be bad. Or the pairing sucks. That could be it. I might have to rewrite it. Anyway, tell em what you think of this one. I hope it'll get a better reception...<em>


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